I shrug out of my black suit jacket and hang it in the closet next to the shirt that my assistant, Sophie had laundered. It was delivered yesterday with the coffee stain permanently set. I’ve been accused in the past of being about as sentimental as a rock, but found myself placing the shirt back into the closet rather than disposing of it. I like that fact that I’m reminded of Robyn every time I open the door.
Jesus, I need some sleep and maybe a restraining order. What am I doing?
I’m distracted from tracing the coffee stain on the shirt by the sound of my cell phone ringing.
“Cole Silverman.”
“Good morning, Mr. Silverman, this is Miss Spears. I’m calling from Starbucks. It’s come to my attention that you have paid one of our employees, Mr. Rodriguez, to give out your number to an unsuspecting female customer. This is not only unethical, it’s also against company policy.”
I’m completely thrown off guard and feel my eyes widen in recognition of the fact she’s found out I slipped Andrew cash to do me a favor. I listen with a sense of dread as the woman continues. “Is paying coffee shop baristas to find you a date normal practice for you, sir?”
I couldn’t be more mortified and for the first time maybe ever, I’m utterly speechless. I begin to mumble an apology before I’m cut off.
“Mr. Silverman, I request that you come over to the store immediately to discuss this. Mr. Rodriguez is in serious breach of company policy and in very real danger of dismissal. He’s made me aware that you work across the street; I’ll expect you within the next fifteen minutes. Good day, sir.”
The line is disconnected before I can answer my overly obnoxious caller. I stand still for a moment absorbing the conversation before my temper flares and I grab my jacket. I don’t particularly like Andrew, but I won’t have him fired for this. I head straight back to the shop. She’s more than likely unaware I’m a lawyer. I’ll have this woman talked in circles and so confused within thirty seconds she’ll be apologizing for wasting my time.
I hardly make it three feet into the shop before Andrew points to a table in the corner with a blank expression fixed in place. I watch as a colleague shoulders him, and he cowers behind the coffee machine. There’s a woman sitting with her back to me, presumably Ms. Spears, and I cough loudly on my approach to announce my arrival. The brunette swivels in her chair, holding a to-go cup with my number sharpied across it, her brow arched and lips pursed. I stop dead in my tracks and swallow the harsh diatribe I’d mentally prepared and was about to deliver.
“Good morning, Mr. Silverman.”
Her voice is smooth now, melodic even, nothing like how it sounded on the phone, and my name falls like a song from her lips. God, those lips.
“Indeed it is. Hello, Robyn.”
I pull out a chair and take a seat across from her, never once breaking eye contact. “I’m assuming that Andrew’s job is, in fact, safe then?” I shoot a look over to where he’s peering above the coffee machine watching.
“For now. Although I’m pretty sure that it probably is against company policy for the staff in here to pimp out people’s numbers.”
She’s smiling, so I take it lightheartedly.
“I’d just like to make clear that this is the first time I’ve ever been pimped out. I wouldn’t want you to think that this is normal practice for me.”
I watch transfixed as her mouth tips at the corner and she fights a smile. The line of her jaw, the curve of her neck, the soft waves of her dark hair falling over one shoulder have me mesmerized. Robyn is living, breathing art. I want to stare at her in much the same way I would a Picasso, taking in all the elements that make up the whole. Her face is a perfect juxtaposition, the features all too prominent and fighting for attention. Her almond eyes are set too wide against the slightness of her nose, angled to draw your attention down to settle on a set of excessively full lips. It should tilt her appearance on the side of peculiarity, yet the odd proportions only enhance her beauty.
“I should apologize for the way I got you here, but I couldn’t resist and I wanted to thank you in person for the coffee. It’s a nice gesture, even if it should be me paying for yours. How’s your shirt, by the way? Do I need to reimburse you for a new one?”
There’s something in the way she asks that makes me think she’s worried I might say yes.
“No, cleaned up fine.” I grin; the lie instantly causes her to smile. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned your acting skills weren’t up to par, but I beg to differ. Not for one moment did I doubt that I was about to encounter some angry middle-management dragon waiting to rip me a new one about exploiting her staff. I can’t tell you how happy I am that it’s you sitting here right now.”
“Maybe I should quit dancing and switch to acting. I’ve obviously missed my calling in life,” she lilts.
“That would be a bold move on the heels of one success. Maybe we could discuss it further over dinner?” I’m aware of the hope laced through my question with all the subtly of a fire alarm. She did call and initiate this meeting though, so that must count for something. She wanted to see me.
“I’m not sure. I mean, no offense but I don’t really know anything about you—going out alone with you would be irresponsible.”
Wow, okay so I didn’t see that coming.
“Well, that’s where you’re in luck. I have a work dinner tonight at Masa, and it will be filled with boring attorneys and other equally exciting individuals. You could be my solace. Call it payback for the shirt. Nice meal, great company. It could be fun. There may even be some dancing.” I’ve never known anyone to dance at these things, but I’m hoping that it will tip the vote in my favor. A wash of uncertainty settles over her face; she looks like I’ve asked her to partake in some sort of criminal activity and not simply dinner. “You don’t have to look so excited by the prospect of a date,” I joke, trying to infuse a little humor I’m not exactly feeling. And there it is, the smallest tip of her mouth, a flash of a suppressed smile, bitten down and held in place by her teeth. She’s about to agree. I feel as though I may have just stumbled upon her tell. So naturally I revel in my success before earning it.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not going to take no for an answer?” she asks.
“Because I’m not.”
“I feel like I need to be up front with you, Cole…” If she’s about to tell me she’s married or involved with someone—I’m not sure I’ll be able to mask the disappointment. God, please don’t be married. “I’m not looking to get into anything with anyone right now, no matter how casual. I’m going through some things and now’s not the best time, like, at all.”
“Well luckily for you, it’s just dinner, not a marriage proposal. On a more serious note, you’d actually be doing me a favor. See, if you don’t agree, I’ll be forced to attend with Janet from the office. I truly fear for my virtue. You’d be liable for its untimely demise. Could you truly live with yourself if you knocked me back now?”
“Your virtue? That’s what you’re going with?”
“Yep, I choked…that’s the best I could come up with. It’s true, though.” She’s smiling. You don’t smile if you’re not going to concede, surely.